A Day in the Life
by AsLostAsAliceAsMadAsTheHatter
Summary: Just a series of one shots about the Professor and Ms. Bellum's relationship. There's not enough of these stories out here, people.
1. Caught

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. That was Ms. Bellum's train of thought as she stared into the bathroom mirror at the reflections of three very sleepy, confused little girls. That hadn't wanted to be that couple, the one who reveals their relationship to their partner's children by being caught staying over. It had been going so well, too. They'd been dating secretly for a few months, agreeing not to tell the girls until they were certain their relationship would work out, and they hadn't been caught yet. Until now.

"Ms. Bellum? What are you doing here so early in the morning?" Bubbles asked with a yawn.

She knew she should have gone home the night before, but they were both buzzed and the sex had been so good, not to mention the bed so warm, that she just couldn't force herself to leave. The Professor hadn't minded in the least, she recalled, especially not when he realized her staying meant more than one round of "private time". She had meant to wake up earlier than she had, get dressed, and leave, but unfortunately that plan had gone down the drain as soon as she opened her eyes and realized it was six-thirty. So there she was, dressed only in a pair of panties and one of the Professor's shirts, leaning over the bathroom sink with toothpaste around her mouth. She spit, as dignified as she could be half-naked and panicked, and turned to face them properly.

"Good morning, girls."

"Good morning," Blossom responded, ever polite. "Why are you here so early?"

"Yeah, and why aren't 'cha wearin' any pants?" Buttercup asked.

"Well, you see girls, the Professor and I-" she stammered, trying to come up with an excuse.

"Ooh, did you have a sleepover?!" Bubbles squealed, much more awake now.

"Um yes, exactly, a sleepover," she agreed, if only to save their sex education for another time, preferably when they were several years older.

She was saved from anymore conversation by the Professor's sleep-laden voice calling for her.

"Sara? Are you still here?" Professor Utonium called, stepping out of his bedroom with her dress in his hand. "If you are, you'd better get dressed before..." he trailed off as he noticed his daughters standing in the doorway to the bathroom, Ms. Bellum blushing brightly behind them.

"Uh, good morning, girls. You're up early," he said nervously.

"Morning, Professor. Ms. Bellum said you had a sleepover," Blossom said.

"Wha? Uh, yes, a sleepover," he quickly stuttered.

This was definitely not the way he pictured them finding out. Buttercup's eyes narrowed, darting between the two nervous adults.

"Wait a minute..." she said, slowly figuring it out. Her eyes widened as she pieced everything together. "You didn't have a sleepover, you're dating her!"

'Shit!' both adults thought as all three stared at them. 'This could have gone so much better.'


	2. Curses

"Ms. Bellum, could you, uh, step in here a moment, please?" Mayor called into his intercom as he laid under his desk in shock.

The tall redhead walked in, expecting another incident with the pickle jar.

"Yes, Mayor? What on earth?!"

"Could you please come here for a moment?"

Confused, she walked passed the three girls who looked incredibly ticked off. She pulled the mayor off the floor, sitting him in his desk chair.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, the girls...they said...they said," he sputtered, wanting to tell her but not wanting to actually say the word.

"What did they say?" she asked, her patience beginning to thin.

"They said..."

He beckoned for her to lean over, and she did so, and he whispered the word in her ear. She pulled back with a gasp.

"They said what?!"

"That," he said meekly, cowering under the force of her anger.

"Girls!" she snapped, and they winced, never having seen her so angry before.

"Yes, Ms. Bellum?"

"Where did you learn that word?"

The three looked at each other debating whether or not to tell her. Her glare hardened further, arms crossing over her chest. They gulped, never remembering seeing her so irate, and knew they were in for it.

"Bubbles said it first!" Blossom and Buttercup yelled, pointing to the blue puff.

Bubbles began to cry as the older woman's gaze rested solely on her.

"Bubbles, where did you learn that word?" she asked, icy calm.

"F-from the Professor!" the little blonde sobbed out.

"Well you can't say it anymore," Ms. Bellum said, the force of her anger redirected to her boyfriend. She sighed, realizing they had only been repeating something they'd heard and that truly, it wasn't their fault. She crouched down, beckoning the girls to her. They floated over slowly, wary of what she was going to do to them. "Girls," she said once she had them nearly in her lap, "that word is a bad word."

"A bad word?" Blossom asked.

"Yes, a bad word. It's not nice to say, and it really upsets some people when you do. Words like that should never, ever be repeated. Now I know you didn't know that when you started saying it, so I'm not that angry with you this time, but please don't say that word again."

"But why is it a bad word? What does it mean?" Bubbles asked.

The woman sighed, having hoped she would be able to get away with not telling them that.

"It means..." She leaned closer and whispered the meaning, watching as their eyes blew wide. "That's why you should never say that word."

"Ew! Gross!" Blossom yelped.

"That's what that means?!" Buttercup asked.

"I've been a potty mouth!" Bubbles wailed, in tears again.

"Shh, it's okay, you didn't know what the word meant. But now that you do you won't say it anymore will you?" Ms. Bellum asked.

"No," the three chorused.

"Good. Come with me," she said, beginning to guide them out of the room.

"Where are we going?" Blossom asked.

"Well, I imagine that you've used that word quite a bit since you heard it, so I have no choice but to punish you on behalf of those people. Just think of it as an incentive not to say that word."

"What are you gonna do?" Buttercup asked, just the tiniest bit afraid.

"Calm down, girls. The most unpleasant part is the taste."

"Huh?"

She led them into the bathroom, selecting a new bar of soap from inside the storage cabinet. They looked on, confused until she removed it from its wrapping.

"Okay, who's first?"

"No! I mean, um, please don't?" Blossom asked.

"Girls, please don't make this harder than it has to be," Ms. Bellum sighed.

The three looked at each other, none wanting to go first. Bubbles sighed, breaking the stare off.

"I guess since I said it first I'll go first."

"Sorry sweetheart," Ms. Bellum said as she placed the soap in her mouth.

Bubbles winced as it began to foam, the taste something she never wanted experience again. Blossom and Buttercup winced, their resolve to not taste it strengthening.

"Who's next?"

Blossom and Buttercup glanced at each other.

"Not me!" they said in unison.

"You go first!" Blossom snapped.

"No, you!" Buttercup yelled back.

"You!"

"You!"

Ms. Bellum ended the argument by calmly reaching over and popping a bar of soap into both of their mouths. They made sounds of protest, but Blossom had the sense to keep hers in while Buttercup spit hers out.

"That's gross!" she yelled.

"Buttercup," Ms. Bellum warned in a tone they knew well.

"I ain't puttin' that back in my mouth!" the girl protested.

The older redhead sighed, realizing there was only one way to deal with her. Before Buttercup knew what was happening, she found herself in the older woman's firm grip, the bar of soap disturbingly close to her face. She struggled, trying to get away but not wanting to hurt her by using her powers.

"No!"

The older woman calmly allowed her to scream, waiting until her mouth was open wide enough to replace the soap. Buttercup shouted muffled protests, but Ms. Bellum kept her grip on the small brunette, not letting her go until she quieted down. Bubbles and Blossom watched the scene in awe, never having seen someone force their sister to behave. One by one, they were allowed to remove the soap and throw it away, grimacing at the left behind taste.

"Now, I hope that has taught you a lesson," the older woman said, leading them back to her office.

"It has. We won't say that word again," Blossom promised.

"Yeah, I don't like soap!" Bubbles agreed.

Buttercup remained silent, her glare saying what she couldn't.

"Good. Go back to school now, I'm sure Ms. Keane is wondering where you are." She waited until they had flown away before dialing her phone. "John? Do you know what the girls just said?" He said something in reply. "They said-" a loud crash from outside muffled her voice.

She had to hold the receiver away from her ear as he began yelling.

"John, I already took care of it!" she yelled over him. "Yes, I washed their mouth out with soap and explained why that word is so bad. They shouldn't say it again. But do you know what I found really interesting?" She heard him gulp as her tone changed to one of feigned interest with an undertone of anger.

"What?" he asked.

"Where they said they heard it in the first place."

"W-where?" he asked, actually fearful for his life.

"Bubbles said she heard it from you. Would you like to tell me why they heard you say such a thing?"

He began to sweat, nervous when faced with his irate girlfriend. He just knew this wouldn't end well for him.

"Well, you see," he stuttered, hoping the only thing she would do was yell.

Ms. Bellum smirked, knowing that what he was about to say was not an adequate reason. "Mm-hmm," she hummed as he told her what had happened. "John," she purred in a tone that was anything but pleasant, "I'll deal with you when I get home."

She hung up, happy to leave him to sweat it out. He, on the other hand, shook as he replaced the receiver, wary of what the woman had in mind. He loved her, but he wasn't afraid to admit she scared him when she got angry. He could only hope whatever she had in mind wouldn't have the results he suspected.


	3. Chickenpox

Was she really the only one in town with any common sense? Ms. Bellum asked herself as she entered the Mayor's office. The girls were there, asking about a new villain. At least, they thought it was a villain. The three were covered in spots, and looked as miserable as they could get. The Mayor, as usual, was totally oblivious and continued to converse with them as though nothing was wrong. She watched for another few minutes before she stepped in.

"Girls?" They turned to look at her, exhaustion painting their faces. She barely held in her urge to comfort them as though they were hers. "Why don't you let me take you home? You don't look like you feel well."

They floated over to her slowly, barely having the energy to move. Sensing they were about to collapse, she gathered them into her arms, calling over her shoulder to the Mayor that she was taking them home. Managing to grab her purse on the way out, she loaded them all into her car and drove them home.

"Girls, why aren't you at home resting?" she asked during the drive.

"Because we have to find Chicken Pox," Blossom said tiredly, barely lifting her head to look at the older redhead.

"What?"

"You know, Chicken Pox. The new villain, the one who did this to us," Bubbles explained.

"Oh no," Ms. Bellum said, barely containing a grin. "Girls, chickenpox isn't a monster, it's just an illness."

"You mean we've been interrogating bad guys all day for nothin'?" Buttercup asked.

"I'm afraid so." The girls groaned. "Don't worry, you're almost home."

The rest of the ride was silent, the girls nearly falling asleep. She lifted them all out of the car gently, shifting them to ring the doorbell. The Professor answered, looking panicked.

"Girls!" he yelled. "Oh thank goodness you're okay!"

"P'fessor, not so loud," Blossom grumbled, pressing her face into the woman's neck.

"Thank you for bringing them home," he said, moving to take them from her.

They grumbled in annoyance, snuggling closer to the woman. Confused, he tried again, succeeding in picking up Bubbles. She struggled weakly, displeased with being removed from the older woman's warmth.

"No, Professor!" she protested, reaching back toward Ms. Bellum.

Confused, he let her go, watching as she snuggled back into the woman's arms. Ms. Bellum smiled, not seeming to mind.

"Um, come in," the Professor said, moving aside.

"Thank you," she said. She sat down and watched as the man bounced in place, obviously nervous and in the beginning stages of panic. "You have no idea what to do, do you?" she asked, unable to watch him any longer.

"Well, um, no," he admitted sheepishly.

She sighed, looking down at the girls.

"Do you mind if I...?"

"No, by all means go ahead."

She headed toward the stairs, the Professor following behind like a puppy.

"Where's the bathroom?" she asked, and he pointed her in the right direction.

Calmly, she settled herself on the floor, the girls in her lap, and began running a bath. The Professor watched in confusion. She occasionally tested the water, turning it off when she was satisfied.

"Do you have any oatmeal?" she asked, utterly confusing him.

"Is this really a time to be eating?" he asked.

She sighed, amazed that such a smart man could be so stupid.

"It's to put in the water. Oatmeal baths help with the itching."

"Oh." She looked at him expectantly. "Right!" he yelled, scrambling down to the kitchen and ransacking the cabinets for the requested item. "Will this be enough?" he asked, returning with a canister.

"It should be," she said, holding out her hand. He watched as she poured some of the oats into the water and stirred them around. "Okay girls, can you stand up for me?" she asked the three, who were nearly asleep.

"Do we have to?" Blossom murmured.

"Well no, but if you do the itch will stop for a while." At that, they slowly got up, whimpering as they did so. She helped them out of their dresses and lifted them into the tub, the Professor watching her every move. "Just sit here for a few minutes and you should feel better," she soothed.

She stood, facing the man behind her.

"That's it?" he asked.

"Not entirely, no. Do you have any calamine lotion?"

"No."

"I suppose I can pick some up from town later on," Ms. Bellum said, keeping an eye on the girls.

"Oh no, you don't have to do that!" the Professor protested. "You've done so much already."

"But it helps heal the spots," she explained. "And it also soothes the itching. The girls need it, I'll be happy to get it."

She turned to go, but stopped as all three girls yelled for her.

"No!"

She turned, raising an eyebrow. They looked embarrassed, and none would answer her silent question. Luckily, she had once been that young and knew what they wanted.

"Girls?" the Professor asked in confusion.

"It's all right, Professor, I know what they want."

She shed her suit jacket, revealing a red blouse. She resumed her position by the tub, swirling the water occasionally. The girls were too tired to play as they usually did, merely sitting in the water. It worried the Professor to see his usually energetic children so listless. He hoped they would be better soon, but he doubted it, considering he had no clue what he was doing.

He watched the woman interact with the girls, something warm beginning to spread throughout his chest. Shaking his head, he snapped out of it, bringing himself back into focus.

"Um," he said, catching her attention. "I could go and get the lotion, if you would, um, watch them."

"Okay," she agreed, more easily than he thought.

Not wasting any time so that she wouldn't think he was taking advantage of her, he rushed to start the car. They were silent until they heard him speed off down the road.

"How did you know what we wanted?" Blossom asked in the silence.

"Because," Ms. Bellum said, running a hand over her head, "I was a little girl once, and when I was sick the only thing I ever wanted was my mom."

They said nothing to that, content that she had understood their silent plea. It wasn't much longer before she lifted them out of the water and dried them off, helping them into their nightgowns and tucking them into bed. Not knowing where anything was, she couldn't use a thermometer to take their temperatures and settled for the back of her hand. They were warm, not alarmingly so, but she wished she had something to bring the fever down.

"Ms. Bellum?" Bubbles asked. "Will you tell us a story? The Professor always does when we go to bed."

"I'll try. It's been a while since I've told a story. Which one would you like to hear?"

The Professor usually made up their bedtime stories, but they didn't tell her that.

"Cinderella?" Bubbles asked, glancing at her sisters.

They didn't protest, to her surprise as they rarely agreed with her.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful little girl who lived with her adoring father in a large house.."

* * *

The Professor rushed into the house with the bottle of lotion, paying no mind to the amount of noise he was making. He checked the bathroom, surprised to find it empty. He hadn't thought he had been gone that long. He checked their bedroom next, a relieved sigh escaping him as he saw them asleep, Ms. Bellum sitting on the edge of the bed. She turned when she felt him staring at her.

"They've been asleep for about a half hour," she whispered. She stood and crossed over to him, glancing at the bag in his hand. "Is that the lotion?"

"Yes, I tried to be quick. You can go now if you want, thanks for everything," he said gratefully.

She looked at him closely, noticing the nervousness and fear still present in his eyes, and made a decision.

"No, I think you need some help. One sick child is a handful, much less three."

"That's all right, you really don't have to-" he began to protest, though he immediately looked more relieved at her offer.

"But I want to. Don't worry, I've had the chickenpox before so I can't catch it again. Have you?"

"I think so, when I was very young," he answered, straining his memory.

"Good, that means you won't catch it."

"Where did you learn how to do this?" he asked, never having taken her for the maternal type.

"I just remember what my mother would do for me, and I suppose the rest comes naturally," she said, lightly shrugging a shoulder.

They were distracted as one of the girls began mumbling in her sleep. The two stepped over to the bed, unsure if she would wake. It turned out to be Buttercup, and they watched as she tossed and turned, a frown marring her features.

"Mama," she mumbled once, clearly close to waking.

The Professor watched in awe as Ms. Bellum calmly stroked her hair and murmured to her. Buttercup calmed instantly, relaxing under her touch. She turned to face him, a small smile adorning her features. He realized then just how much she loved the girls, and the warm feeling returned. He found himself smiling back, and for a split second, barely any time at all, he forgot what was going on. For that one second, he was the entire focus of her world and she was his. Then Bubbles sat up with a cry and they both flew into action to calm her.

As he assisted the woman in calming his daughter he couldn't help but think that maybe, once the girls were well and things had settled down, he'd pursue the matter further and see if his feelings were returned.


	4. Some Things Will Never Change

"Yes John, I'm perfectly fine," Sara Bellum, now Untonium, said for what had to be the fifteenth time that day. "Yes, I'll call you if I notice the slightest difference." She smiled softly, her annoyance melting away. "I love you, too."

She sighed as she replaced the receiver in its cradle, hand coming to rest atop her distended stomach. Ever since she had told her husband she was pregnant he had been nearly unbearable, and now that she was in her third trimester he was downright intolerable. She lovingly stroked her bump, feeling the gentle nudge she had become accustomed to.

"Well, little one, what do you think?" she asked aloud, though quietly. "Do you think daddy is being silly?" She felt a kick in response. "I guess so," she laughed.

She was so ready for her child to arrive, as were the girls and her husband. Her older children, now nearly twelve, were ecstatic about becoming older sisters, though as of late they were becoming as oppressive as their father. She knew they merely wanted to make sure she was safe and that the baby was all right, but they acted as if she were an invalid. It was driving her crazy!

Though, she mused, the monster attacks had become far less frequent since news of her pregnancy broke. She wasn't sure if it was the girls beating all the monsters senseless before they had the chance to try anything or if they were simply too afraid to attack. She was betting on a mixture of both.

As if on cue, Mojo Jojo burst through the ceiling into her office, an evil smirk on his face.

"It is I, Mojo Jojo, here to kidnap you! That is to say it will be me who will be transporting you away from this place to a place of my choosing in exchange for control of the city!" he yelled. She merely yawned, hand rubbing lazy circles on her stomach. "You are not afraid of I, Mojo Jojo, and all that I could do to you?"

"Not particularly," she responded.

"What has caused this development? I am Mojo Jojo, the greatest evil mind in the universe, the one who is to be feared!"

"And I have three pre-teens who will pulverize you if you so much as lay a finger on me," Sara responded in an annoyed but serious tone.

The monkey gulped, pulling at the collar of his cape. He was well aware of the warning, or threat rather, the three superheroes had issued about five months back when it was discovered the mayor's assistant was expecting. For a moment, he considered abandoning his plans and avoiding what was sure to be a severe beating if he was caught, but then he shook away his fears. How would it look for him, the greatest super villain ever, to back down from a bunch of middle school delinquents?

"Never mind that, for I, Mojo Jojo, am not afraid of three little girls! Come now, I have a plan to carry out!"

He made to grab her, but even heavily pregnant she was faster than him. She was up and out of her desk before he could touch her, running for her own recently installed hotline.

"Girls!" she yelled as soon as she heard them pick up. "Mojo Jojo is here and he's-" she was cut off as the other side of the line went dead.

She felt a laser or some sort of gun poke her in the back, and she stood still.

"Turn around," Mojo commanded. She did as he asked, knowing that the girls would be there soon. "Good. Now, you are going to come with me-"

"I don't think so, Mojo!" Blossom yelled as the girls flew through the hole in the ceiling.

"Let her go, Mojo," Buttercup growled, fists tightening.

"Never! For I, Mojo Jojo, will-"

He was silenced by a punch to the face. Sara was slightly surprised. Usually they had a little banter before they fought. She remained silent as they beat up the monkey, Buttercup more vicious than usual. The brunette had been surprisingly protective over her after she found out she was pregnant, and it hadn't changed the further along she got. She wondered if she would act that way toward the baby once it came.

"Take that, Mojo Jojo!" Bubbles screamed, landing another punch.

"Girls, girls, I think you've done enough," Sara said once she noticed how badly they had hurt the monkey.

"Are you sure? We can always beat him up some more," Blossom said.

"No girls, I think he got the message."

They looked at one another, seemingly making a decision.

"All right, Mom. Come on, girls, let's get him out of here," Blossom said.

They picked up the badly injured Mojo and flew him away, presumably to jail. Sara sighed, sitting back in her desk and doing her best to ignore the large hole in the ceiling. She began counting, reaching twenty before her phone rang.

"Hello? Yes, John, I'm fine. The girls took care of it and I'm fine," she insisted, not without annoyance but mostly fondly. "No John, I'm not going to come home early. I'm fine, the baby's fine, we're all fine. The only damage is the hole in the ceiling. I'll see you at five-thirty as usual. I love you."

She hung up on her extremely worried husband, sighing.

"Well, little one, looks like it's just you and me for a bit until your daddy calms down." The baby nudged her. "Yes, I'm sure he'll be fine by dinner time. Now let's finish some of this paperwork shall we?"

The baby kicked, signaling its displeasure. She laughed, running her hand across her bump. Some things would never change.


	5. Her Fault

Screaming filled the air, fire rained, and chaos was rampant. The girls were trying their best to stop it, but this time Him had actually thought ahead. Each monster they came up against was stronger than the last, and twice as hard to kill. They were already beaten and bruised, but they kept fighting, Townsville's safety at the forefront of their mind. Now fifteen, they thought they had seen everything there was to see when it came to a monster attack. They were dead wrong.

Him had unleashed nine monsters on the city at once, three for each of them, and it was all they could do to team up and stop one. They shuddered to think how many lives had already been lost, not to mention how many more could potentially die before they were stopped. All three paused at the familiar sound of City Hall crumbling, the monster they were fighting taking the opportunity to knock them out of the air. They crashed into the street, sliding to a stop not far from City Hall.

"Come on, girls. It's got the Mayor," Blossom said, struggling to pick herself up.

Buttercup and Bubbles followed her lead, forcing themselves into the air. Another scream sounded, and the pure fear it contained made them shiver and freeze in place.

"Is that?" Bubbles asked, though she already knew the answer.

Blossom nodded grimly.

"It got Mom, too."

"Let's go," Buttercup growled, strength renewed.

The three steeled their nerves, racing toward the monster that dared to harm their mother. Ms. Bellum screamed again, the monster holding her tighter. She felt bones break, and for the first time was truly scared. Three streaks of light cut across the sky over her head, and through her pain she smiled.

"All right, let's do this," Buttercup said, for once taking point instead of Blossom.

"Let's," the redhead agreed, allowing her sister to take the lead.

The brunette shot toward the monster like a bullet, firing raw energy from her hands. Her aim was true, the monster stumbling and howling in pain and rage. Blossom and Bubbles took the opportunity to fly to either side and use their lasers, trying to make it drop the Mayor and their mother. It stumbled back, quickly recovering and shooting some of its spikes at them. They dodged, regrouping above it.

"Bubbles, sonic scream!" Blossom commanded.

The blue puff took a breath and screamed as loud as she could, the sound echoing around and causing everyone who heard it to cringe in pain. The monster dropped its hostages, more concerned with conserving its hearing than them. Buttercup and Blossom took off, fighting to catch them in time. Blossom grabbed the Mayor inches from the ground, breathing a sigh of relief. She gently sat him down, thinking their job was done with. Buttercup's scream made her head snap up, eyes widening as she watched the rescue in slow motion.

Ms. Bellum was falling, and Buttercup was just above her, reaching out a hand. The older redhead made a grab and missed, causing Buttercup to speed up to try and catch her. She barely grasped the back of her jacket before it tore away, and both watched in horror as the older woman hit the ground. They were still for a few seconds, not believing their eyes, before Buttercup was on the ground shaking her and begging her to be okay. Blossom quickly took to her side, trying to calm her.

"Buttercup, stop! You could hurt her if you keep shaking her like that!" The brunette didn't listen, continuing to shake their mother for all she was worth. "Buttercup!" Blossom finally screamed, gaining her attention. "Go help Bubbles. There's still a monster back there."

The distraught puff obediently flew away, tears streaming down her cheeks. Blossom took a deep breath, approaching the older redhead to search for a pulse. There was a flutter, barely there, but enough for Blossom to have hope. She gently collected her into her arms and sped toward the hospital, hoping she wouldn't be too late.

* * *

The girls joined the Professor at the hospital as quickly as they could, which happened to be hours after Blossom had taken their mother in. The nurses merely glanced at them as they flew through the halls to the IC unit. Ordinarily, there would only be one visitor allowed at a time, but since it was them they were allowed through. Their father was sitting at their mother's bedside, and it was obvious he'd been crying. He held her hand in his, one of the only parts of her body not in a cast or hooked up to machines.

"Dad?" Blossom said to alert him to their presence.

"Oh, girls," he said, turning and clearing his throat. "I was wondering when you'd get here."

"We're sorry, it took longer than we thought to deal with all the monsters and Him," the redhead apologized.

"It's okay. All that matters is that you're here now."

They crept forward, trying not to cry. The woman's eyes were closed, giving her the appearance of sleep.

"They said they've done all they can. It's up to her now," the Professor said grimly. "It doesn't look good."

Bubbles let out a quiet sob, her hand hovering above her mother's shoulder. She looked back at her father for permission, receiving a nod. She touched her shoulder, and when that didn't send the nurses flocking in, she leaned over and gently wrapped the injured woman in a hug. She zipped out after, unable to tolerate it anymore.

Blossom was next, tears glistening in her eyes, though she fought valiantly to conceal them. She kissed the older redhead on the cheek before floating out to find Bubbles. That left Buttercup, who could barely look at the older woman.

"Buttercup, don't you want to tell her good-bye?" the Professor asked.

"It was my fault," the green puff whispered, so quietly he couldn't hear her.

"What?"

"I said it was my fault!" she yelled, whipping her head up to face him. "I had her. I _had her_. Then her stupid jacket ripped and I dropped her. It's my fault," she finished miserably, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh Buttercup," the Professor whispered. "You tried, you tried so hard. I'm sure she knows that and I'm sure she doesn't blame you."

"But how do you know?"

"She loved you girls more than anything, and understood the risks to marrying me. She knew she'd be a bigger target if she went through with it, but she loved us so much she didn't care. She knew, Buttercup, and she still chose to be with us. She loves you, and were she conscious she would tell you that herself."

The green puff sniffed, nodding slowly. She floated over to her mother, wrapping her in a hug as her sisters had done.

"I'm sorry," she whispered quietly before zipping out of the room.

The Professor sighed, an unseen weight stooping his shoulders. He resumed his position beside her bed, once again taking her hand.

The girls remained outside her room all night, keeping watch over their parents. The nurses were very kind, allowing them to stay even when other families were ushered out. Dawn was just breaking when they heard the heart monitor drop into a flatline. Nurses and doctors flocked in, shooing the Professor into the hall where he promptly broke down. Blossom and Bubbles clung to each other, sobs wracking their frames.

Buttercup, through her own tears she fought to withhold, floated up to peer through the small window to their mother's room. She saw the nurses shake their heads as the head doctor unplugged the machines. One of the nurses ventured to the door to inform them the woman was dead. Buttercup took off in a streak of green, vanishing before the nurse set foot in the hall. Her quick escape didn't prevent her from hearing the sounds of anguish her family made as they received the news.

She flew out over the city, finally allowing her own tears to fall. As she flew, she only had one thought. _It was her fault._


	6. Of Ice Skating and Proposals

The Professor was sweating profusely as he waited for his girlfriend to arrive for their date. The box in his pocket seemed to weigh a ton, the diamond reminding him of his very important decision. After two years of dating, he'd finally decided to pop the question. He had, of course, told the girls his plan, and to his joy they were perhaps more excited than him. Now all he had to do was ask her.

She arrived soon after, breathtaking in her purple dress, the slit going up to her thigh.

"Hello, John," she greeted as he opened the door.

"Hi, Sara."

He leaned over and kissed her, taking her by surprise. Usually he waited until after dinner or until he had taken her home before he kissed her.

"What was that for?" she asked as they broke apart.

"Because you look absolutely amazing," he replied, leaning in to kiss her again.

That kiss turned into two, then three, and Ms. Bellum found herself having to push him away, lest they never make their dinner reservation.

"Mm, John," she murmured, leaning back a little. "We have to go."

"Do we?" he asked, enjoying their current activity far more than their awaiting dinner.

"Unless you want to miss dinner and possibly get caught, yes," the redhead hummed, not entirely against it herself.

Though he'd rather finish what he'd started, the Professor backed away, knowing that the night had to continue as planned if he wanted to permanently make her his. He smiled to himself as he noticed her slightly dazed look. He offered her his arm, which she accepted, and he led her to his car.

* * *

Dinner had gone well, the food wonderful and the dancing amazing. For his after dinner activity, he had chosen to take her into Citiesville for ice skating. He had recalled her saying once that she'd never done it before, and he thought it would be a perfect ending to their evening. He also hadn't told her about it, wanting it to be a surprise.

As they pulled into the rink parking lot he glanced over at her, pleased to notice her eyes lighting up.

"John, are we really going ice skating?" she asked, her excitement palpable.

"Yup. I knew you wanted to try it, so I booked some slots."

"This is wonderful. But, what about my dress?" she asked, running a hand over her thigh.

"Don't worry. Remember when the girls spent the weekend with you a few weeks ago? I had them grab one of your sweaters and a pair of jeans."

"I thought I was missing some things from my closet," Ms. Bellum said, not entirely thrilled he had gotten the girls to swipe her clothes.

"Oh come on, honey, I only did it because I wanted to surprise you," he said, sensing her displeasure.

"I know, I just wish you'd gone about it a different way."

"It was the only way I could think of short of buying you a new outfit. Now come on, let's go skating."

* * *

Though she'd initially been annoyed, she was actually quite relieved the Professor had thought of getting some of her more mobile clothes because, as she soon found out, it would have been impossible to skate in a dress. She could barely keep upright in jeans, much less with the restrictions a dress would have provided. She felt herself losing her balance again, though she never hit the ice.

"Careful there," the Professor said, tightening his grip on her waist and pulling her upright.

She smiled her thanks at him, leaning on his shoulders until she felt confident enough to continue. They skated around for a bit, the Professor teaching her and guiding her until she could skate on her own, albeit shakily. Without warning, the lights in the rink dimmed, and a slow song began to play. The Professor smiled, pleased the owner had followed his instructions. He grabbed his girlfriend's hands, spinning and twirling with her in a dance across the ice.

As the song grew close to the end, he looped his arms around her waist, slowing them to a stop and bringing her in for a kiss. As the last chords of the song faded, he drew back, smiling at her before dropping down to one knee. He held her hands, staring up at her. Her eyes widened, and she gasped. The other couples and various patrons in the rink stopped, watching the event in the middle of the ice.

"Sara Marie Bellum, I've known you since we were small. Back then we were just friends, lab partners or whatever else life deemed us to be. And then you came to Citiesville for high school and and I didn't see you for a long time. In fact, the next time I saw you was during one of the Mayor's speeches. You were standing behind him, looking gorgeous in your red business suit. I barely recognized you, you had changed so much. And then I made the girls and there you were, looking out for them and back in my life again.

From the first moment I saw you with the girls I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You're everything I could wish for in a woman. Gorgeous, intelligent, kind, sensitive, the list goes on. Most importantly, you treat me as a human being, not a genius with no emotion. I love you more than words can describe.

So now I'm asking you, Sara Bellum, will you be my wife?"

There was a moment of silence, no one daring to speak or even breathe. The stillness was broken by the woman in question nodding, slowly at first, and then vigorously. A large cheer went up as the Professor slipped the ring onto her finger.

"Yes, yes, John, yes!" Ms. Bellum cried, voice cracking as tears streamed down her cheeks.

He stood up, pulling her into an embrace. Slowly, people began skating up to them and congratulating them on their engagement. He thanked them all, his girlfriend, or rather, fiancé, still curled against him with her face hidden.

"Come on, Sara," he said when the flow of people finally stopped. "I think it's time we head home and share the good news. What do you think?"

"I think you're absolutely right."

He kissed her one last time before leading her off the ice and into the beginning of their lives together.


	7. New Years

**AN: Happy New Year! I know for some of you it might not be 2016 just yet, but for me, living on the east coast, it has been 2016 for an hour and half now. I wish all of you a wonderful new start to the year, and am delighted to make this my first post of the new year! Happy reading, and may** **your year be** **wonderful!**

* * *

People talked, music played, wine was sipped. Ms. Bellum looked around happily at the congregation of people inside her boyfriend's home. It had been her idea to have a New Year's party, and while the Professor had initially been against it, he eventually agreed when she recruited the girls to help her beg. Looking at him laughing with Ms. Keane and the Mayor she knew he was glad he had agreed, though she also knew he'd never admit it. Looking around once again, she spotted the girls leaning on one another and desperately trying to stay awake to witness the ball drop.

They had been allowed to stay up on the condition that they went to bed as soon as the year, and millennium, rolled over. They had readily agreed, anything so that they could see just what the fuss was about. She laughed as she watched Buttercup blow a noisemaker in Bubbles' ear, the little blonde nearly shooting to the ceiling. She had no doubt that they'd fall asleep in the remaining five minutes before the ball dropped. Noticing how everyone was beginning to group around the tv, she navigated her way through the crowd so that she was standing beside the Professor.

She pressed a flute of champagne into his hand, smirking as he took it with a blush. She knew he rarely drank, and she also knew how little alcohol he could hold. Just the single glass of champagne promised an interesting night for her. She reached for his hand as the clock showed a minute remaining until the New Year. She looked around for the girls, smiling softly when she found them piled on top of one another fast asleep just in front of the tv. She knew they'd be upset that they'd missed it in the morning, but that was in the morning and until then she intended to enjoy the few seconds of the old year she had left.

Memories from the year flashed through her mind, from daring rescues performed by the girls to the day the Professor had admitted his feelings and asked her on what turned out to be their first date. She remembered the first time they'd told each other they loved one another, and the first time one of the girls called her mom. He was brought back to herself as all their friends began chanting, counting down the year.

"Ten!"

She turned her head to look at the Professor, catching his eye.

"Nine!"

She smiled, and he smiled back, her love reflected in his gaze.

"Eight!"

They stepped closer, preparing for the customary kiss that would for them mark the promise of things to come.

"Seven!"

They glanced at the screen, watching the brightly lit ball descend toward the as-of-yet unlit 2000 sign.

"Six!"

The ball continued to fall, the old year winding down.

"Five!"

They turned back to look at each other, smiling once again.

"Four!"

"Are you ready, John?" Ms. Bellum asked, and he knew she wasn't just asking about the impending year.

"Three!"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Two!"

They were already beginning to lean in for their kiss.

"One! Happy New Year!"

They kissed, ignoring everything but each other. Out of the corner of her eye, Ms. Bellum saw the 2000 sign light up and the confetti fall. Around them, people were downing drinks and patting each other on the back, celebrating the beginning of not only a new year but a new millennium. They broke apart but remained close, smiling at each other.

"Happy New Year, Sara," the Professor said.

"Happy New Year, John." She raised her own glass of champagne. "To the coming year, and to us."

"To us."

They clinked glasses, each sipping their drink.


	8. Learn to Live Again

"Are you sure?" the Professor asked as he caressed her stomach.

"I'm sure," Sara said, nearly in tears herself.

They were curled together on the couch after she'd announced her pregnancy. The girls were still flying around happily, but her husband was gently touching her and being as calm as possible.

"This is wonderful. How far along are you?" he asked, and she could see the spark of excitement in his eye that was usually reserved for a scientific breakthrough.

"About six weeks. My first appointment is next Thursday."

He kissed her, and she could feel all his love for her and their child. They broke apart, smiling and cradling each other's face.

"We're really gonna be parents again?" he asked.

"Yes, we're really going to be parents again," she echoed, unable to stop a tear from escaping.

"Woo-hoo!" the Professor yelled, picking her up and swinging her around.

She laughed, hanging onto him for dear life. They'd been trying for so long, with no results. They had been convinced that they would never have a child of their own. But then the unexpected happened. Looking into her husband's eyes, she just knew their baby would complete their family in the best way.

* * *

Sara gasped as a sharp pain brought her out of sleep. He hand cupped the barely there bump that had just begun to show, hoping it was just a cramp and that it would pass. Another pain came, tearing at her and making her double over. She panted for breath, both hands having found their way to her stomach.

"John," she breathed out, voice shaking. "John, something's wrong." He mumbled something incoherent before rolling to face her. "John!" she wailed as a third cramp ripped through her.

He was awake in an instant, eyes raking over her to determine the source of her distress. The woman panted, feeling as though she were being turned inside out. She felt something wet and warm trickling down her legs and shakily touched it. She wailed as she realized it was blood. Her husband realized what was happening and in an instant had her in his arms running toward the garage.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine. You'll both be fine," he soothed, trying to calm her.

He strapped her into the passenger seat of the car, barely taking the time to open the garage door before he was speeding down the street to the hospital. He whipped into the Emergency Room parking lot, pulling up underneath the overhang in front of the doors. He hurriedly got her out, alarmed at the blood coating her thighs and the seat.

"Help!" he screamed as he carried her in. "My wife is pregnant and she's bleeding!"

A flurry of nurses rushed over and removed her from his arms, quickly wheeling her away. He sat down and put his head in his hands, the sobs of his wife echoing down the hall. He cringed as he saw the bright red stains on his white pajamas, and the urge to strip came over him. He ignored it, instead allowing his eyes to bore holes in the ER doors. If only they'd be all right...

* * *

Since coming home from the hospital weeks before, Sara had done nothing but lie in bed staring at the ceiling or walls. She ignored the Professor and the girls, their attempts to speak to her falling on deaf ears. Darkness spread through the house, sending everyone into misery. The girls were barely functioning, going through their days as robots. The Professor no longer went to the lab, his days spent trying to root his wife out of her depression.

"Come on, Sara," he pleaded one day about a month and a half after the miscarriage. "Please get up. I need you, the girls need you. We miss you." She didn't respond, and he tried again. "They're worried about you. Bubbles makes you things every day and Blossom reads obsessively to try and find a way to help you. Buttercup can't even look at the door to the bedroom anymore. Please, Sara, they need their mother."

She finally looked at him, her blue eyes dull.

"You need me?" she croaked, voice dry after not speaking in so long. "Our baby needed me, John! And I failed! How can I face you or the girls again knowing that I killed our child?!"

He leaned away, shocked not only that she was speaking but that she blamed herself.

"Sweetheart, you didn't kill the baby. You heard the doctor, sometimes miscarriages happen for no reason. They think there was something wrong and that's why you lost it."

"They also said it would have stood a better chance if I were younger."

He was silent, unable to argue that fact. The doctor had told them that because they were in their forties a pregnancy would be harder to sustain. When she didn't receive an answer she began to turn away, but he wasn't about to let her go again.

"It wasn't your fault. Hell, maybe it's mine for not making sure you were okay. Maybe it's nobody's fault. The point is, our child is gone." She closed her eyes and turned her head. He gently held her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Sara, our child is gone. There's no way around that. But we still have three very alive daughters who need us, especially you. Don't make them suffer because of something that was out of our hands."

He left her then, unable to continue when she kept looking at him as though he'd slapped her. She stared after him, his words turning over in her mind. How could she just forget her baby as though it never existed? She couldn't, but perhaps he was right. Perhaps it was time for her to start living again.

The Utonium household, as was usual since the miscarriage, was silent. The girls were each absorbed in their respective activities, Blossom reading, Buttercup training, and Bubbles listlessly coloring. For the first time in weeks the Professor considered going down to his lab, but couldn't find the motivation. The mood, as usual, was dark, and the four couldn't help but wonder if it would ever be normal again. A sound on the stairs caught their attention and they turned, gasping at what they saw.

Sara stood there, dressed in a blouse and jeans, hair done and makeup on. She descended the staircase, everyone watching her with baited breath. She stopped in the doorway, observing them and they her. She took in the silence and the sadness, for a moment forcing back a wave of guilt. Then she smiled, and it was as though a curtain had been lifted.

"I'm going to the park. Anyone care to join me?"

The girls squealed in happiness, nearly tackling her with a hug. Through their chorus of we missed you, we love you, we're glad you're back, she locked eyes with the Professor. He was smiling at her, tears glistening in his eyes. He approached when the girls had let go, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her gently. It tasted of love, grief, pain, and hope, and promised a new beginning.

Maybe they wouldn't have the child they'd dreamed of, but they did have the perfect little family already. They'd never forget those three months spent wishing and hoping, but they could remember how to live again.


End file.
